Whims
by taylor519
Summary: Two-Bit knows his sister is a smart girl, but it doesn't stop him from worrying.


Writers block for days. And then suddenly: **inspiration!**

* * *

She's finally asleep after about an hour of whining and a second hour of story-telling on Two-Bit's part. It was much more of an ordeal than bedtime ever is when it's their mom taking care of it, but she knows she can get away with more with Two-Bit. He's just not hard enough on her to tell her to go to bed. If she whimpers he coddles and if she asks he gives. He may be only ten, but his baby sister has him wrapped around her tiny little finger. And even though she hasn't a clue how to read or write and still has a tiny lisp on the difficult words, she's still smart enough to know exactly how much control she has over him.

So he's relieved when she's finally asleep, albeit, she's not in bed. No, this little one fell asleep curled up on the couch next to him, demanding story after story until she couldn't keep her little eyes open anymore. She's adorable all cozied up in her pink onesie-the one with the little feets on it, she wouldn't wear anything else. Her curly hair falls in tuffs into her face and her lips form a pout, still shaping the way they did when she used to suck her thumb. She's only four now, just a babe, still shiny and smiley and new.

Two-Bit is just getting up to grab her a blanket when there's a knock at the door. It's loud enough to make him glance at his sister, praying it didn't wake her. Luckily, she doesn't move an inch other than her tiny chest rising and falling with her breath.

He peeks out the window by the door to see who's out there, he knows better than to open the door to strangers when they're home alone, especially when it's late at night. His mother went over it with him every time she left them alone, it was only this year that they no longer had to stay with their neighbour when mom worked late.

He scurries to answer it when he sees it's Dallas standing outside his door, hands jammed in his pockets and looking this way and that like he was going to get arrested just for knocking.

He only pulls the door open enough to let Dal inside then closes it again and switches it locked. "Hey Dal," he practically whispers, "whatcha doin' here?"

Dallas shifts on his feet, and Two-Bit notices he's leaning to the left. "Just got into a scrap with Shepard, left 'em pretty banged up, too."

Dally was speaking entirely too loudly, so Two-Bit shushed him, "the kid's asleep. Mom's not here so you can come in if ya want Dal, but we gotta be quiet."

"Yeah, sure," but he didn't sound much quieter, "hey you got ice or somethin'?" He asked, rubbing his side.

Two-Bit took him into the kitchen and gave him a bag of ice. Dal slid off his shirt to survey the damage and Two-Bit couldn't help the way his eyes widened at the sight.

"Jeez Dal, what'd he do, hit ya with a truck?" His whole side was blue and purple, the bruise darkening around his ribs.

"Can it Two-Bit. And give me that ice. I just fell wrong, that's all." Typical of Dally to brush this sort of thing off as nothing. Two-Bit did as he was told and handed Dallas the ice. At least the guy was smart enough to tend to it.

"Keif?" Her tiny voice called from the doorway. Two-Bit rolled his head back and sighed, frustrated that she was back up.

"Hey there Annie. Girly, you ought to be sleeping." He told her as she made her way over to him.

She buried her head in his leg and shook it no, and he knew he'd have to be tough with her tonight since she was being so stubborn. When he looked down at her she was staring up at Dallas, her eyes unblinking.

"Listen to your big brother, kid," Dal told her when she wouldn't stop staring.

She didn't say anything, but she stepped towards him and before either of them could react she reached up and laid her hand on his bruise. Dal cringed back on instinct, and started cussing up a storm, too. "What the hell's the matter with you, kid?" he growled at her.

"Hey now, Dal, she didn't know!" Two-Bit was quick to defend.

But Annie didn't seem startled at all by his outburst, and didn't cry at his anger with her, as Two-Bit expected she would. She just kept staring at Dal with those big, bright, little kid eyes.

"C'mon, girly," Two-Bit picked her up and carried her out of the kitchen, and to his surprise she didn't even fight him.

When he got her up the stairs she started asking questions.

"Who was that, Keif?"

"That's my buddy Dallas."

"Why's he all coloured up?"

"It's just a really big bruise, hun."

"Oh… That's the biggest bruise I ever seen, ever. Did he fall?"

"Yep, he fell."

"He fell really bad to get bruised like that."

"Mhm." Two-Bit put her into bed and pulled up the covers, and still she didn't protest. Before he left she called out to him, though, as he knew she would. It just couldn't be that easy, could it?

"Annie you got to sleep now."

"If he's your buddy how come I never seen him before?" Two-Bit had introduced her to a couple of his friends and now she held the notion that she knew all about his social life.

"We're usually at Darry's house, you remember Darry?"

"Yep! Darry's real big and scary," she confirmed cheerily.

Two-Bit moved back into the room, intrigued by her description. "You think Darry's scary?"

"No!" He could tell she thought she'd made some mistake. "He's just scary sometimes 'til I 'member he's nice."

So it was just because he was so much bigger that she found him scary, then. But now he was curious. "Do you think Dally's scary?"

She shook her head, but he could see her eyes were getting droopy, thankfully.

"Even after he yelled at you?"

"No, Dally's not scary. He says lotsa bad words though." She rubbed her nose with her little fist. She'd be out soon, he knew.

He shook his head, "Girly, I can't believe you find Darry scary and not Dal. Don't tell Dallas that, or he'll make it his goal to scare you."

She shook her head at him. "Dallas is too hurt to be scary," she told him, before closing her eyes. She was asleep for good this time.

* * *

She's started trying to tag along with him when she can. If he mentions that he's going to a movie with the guys, she'll suddenly have a dire need to see that movie too. If he's going out she'll ask if she can come too. When he is forced to stay home to watch her, she suggests he invite over some friends to hang out.

He doesn't really mind it too much, honestly. He knows she's only ten, but now that she goes out he'd rather have her with him than running around with who-knows-who. Plus she doesn't push if he says no and she's still just a kid so she's never out after dark. So he gets plenty of time to himself too. He doesn't mind that she likes to tag along, but when he starts to suspect _why _she's hanging around him so much, he does start to mind.

He figures it out because he's clever; it's all that school he attends. She's also about as subtle as a freight train. But he likes to think it's more the first reason than the second.

When she asks, "So how're the guys?"

And he answers, "good. Dar got captain of the football team at school this year, so we played football to celebrate, of course. Johnny tackled Steve, you should'a seen that take-down, I was 'ooh-ing' from across the field!" He stopped to cackle at the memory. "We were short a man though; Dal got himself picked up by the coppers again."

That's when he knows why she's so interested in his social life. Because she perks up at the mention of Dallas, and responds with, "Dally's locked up again? What'd he do this time?"

She's started asking about him, and it makes Two-Bit feel like there's a heavy ball of led in his stomach.

He knows for sure the day the guys stop by to pick him up for a party.

He lets them right in, Dal, Soda, and Steve. They're already a bit boozed up (with the exception of Sodapop, who, regardless, acts drunker than the other two combined), and he regrets not being able to join them for the party-before-the-party. But he'd had to keep an eye on Annie, and his mom finally got home half-an-hour ago, so at least he's free to join them tonight.

Annie comes down the stairs to grab herself a snack before bed (with the amount his baby sister eats he's amazed she could still be so tiny). They're in the living room about to leave, and when she stops in to say goodnight she's in her big flannel pink pjs. They just about swallow her whole, but she likes her window open at night, so her room is always freezing.

"Have fun guys. Two-Bit, don't get in too much trouble. I can't take care of mom all my own," she jokes.

"Don't cha worry Annie, we'll keep him real responsible for ya!" Soda promises, wrapping his arm around Two-Bit's neck in a hug/choke-hold.

And before they leave Dally makes a remark. It's not objectifying or laced with underlying innuendo. After all, she's only ten and Dally's many things but he's not that. No, if anything, he only meant to be teasing her.

"Cute pjs, kid," his tone is mocking and he barely even glances at her when he says it.

Two-Bit wouldn't have thought anything of it if it weren't for the way she blushed high on her cheeks and smiled like the guy'd just proposed or somethin'.

So yeah, maybe he did start to mind her tagging along so much.

Two-Bit doesn't enjoy the party that night.

Instead he thinks about what this means. And no amount of alcohol or pretty girls or dancing Soda can take his mind off it. Obviously, he's not worried about Annie and Dallas becoming an item. Dally may not be a good person, per say, but he was a good friend. Dal had his own moral rules, they were different from most people's, but he still had them. And Two-Bit knew his buddy well enough to know that 'sisters of good friends' had a subsection in Dal's person code of conduct. Plus, Dal liked the wild type of gals that would tear his eyes out, Annie was anything but.

So he wasn't worried about Dal specifically. But he wondered what his sister's little crush meant for her. Was this an isolated incident? Or were guys like Dally her 'type'? He felt sick at the thought of her ending up with some hoodlum who'd use her and beat her and leave her with a couple kids and no money. In that case, he'd almost prefer it were Dallas, at least then he could keep tabs on the guy.

He never thought he'd have to worry about this sort of thing with her. She was never going to be that girl. She wasn't going to end up like their mother, or worse. Her future would end up more like Miss. Curtis' had. At least, that's what he'd always thought.

When he got home he stopped in her room to check on her. God, she was still so innocent, didn't she know what guys like Dal were like? Of course she didn't. He hoped she never would.

That night started some awful worrying that he was sure would cost him at least an extra five years off his life. And his worrying didn't stop for a long time.

* * *

She's going to give him an honest-to-god heart attack. He's not even exaggerating; she's going to kill him.

That's what he tells himself the day she comes out of her room, dressed in heals higher than her skirt is short with make-up painted all over her face. She looks like a true greaser girl, like a little, miniature, red-headed Sylvia.

For God's sake she's only twelve.

She'd started with the make-up a few weeks ago, and he'd not said a word to her about it, even though he could see her watching him from the corner of her eye and waiting for him to bring it up. But he figured he'd let his mother deal with this one. Except instead of telling Annie to knock it off with the face plaster she'd simply showed her little girl how to do it better. Well at least she wasn't piling it on anymore.

Then she'd gone shopping with Angela Shepard the other day, and she had always loved to show off what she'd gotten when she went shopping. She'd get home and put on a little fashion show for their mom, or, if mom wasn't around, him. He obviously had very little interest, but he liked seeing her all excited over her new outfits. But when she'd gotten back the other day with bags in hand, she headed straight for her room and didn't come back out until dinner.

Annie thought she was inconspicuous, but in all honesty she was just about the worst liar he'd ever met. He aimed to keep it that way.

So when she walked out in the short skirt and low-cut red top, he near about keeled over and died right there. She didn't have much to show off, being twelve, but she was developing, and it made him more uncomfortable than when people used the word 'developing'.

She tried to walk by quickly and get out the door without making eye contact with him, but this one he just couldn't let slide.

"Annie," he stopped her. "You're going out?"

"Yeah. Angela wants to go out tonight, we'll probably just bum around, maybe see a movie." He could hear the anxiousness in her voice. She really was a terrible liar.

"You're wearing _that_ to the movies?" He raised an eyebrow, "bit dressed up, don't you think?"

"Well Ang said dress nice so I figured…" she held out her hands awkwardly, displaying her outfit. He could tell by the way she kept glancing at the door she wanted to bolt.

Jesus, he didn't know how to handle this. He couldn't just tell her to go change. He was her brother, not her father. And he was terrible at having rules or enforcing them. Everything he did revolved around breaking rules. He was really way in over his head. Why couldn't she have just stayed young forever?

"Isn't that skirt a bit short for you?" He tried.

"I think it fits just fine, Two-Bit," she rushed out, "I got to go, Ang is outside, looks like Curly's driving, too. I'm not gonna make him wait." She reached for the door quickly, all her movements clearly defining how uncomfortable she felt with the whole conversation. _That makes two of us_, he thought.

"Isn't Curly-" the door slammed behind her, cutting him off, "a bit young to be driving?" he finished to himself.

It's okay. It's just one night that she's out like that, he'd mention it to mom and she'd deal with it. She was better at this sort of stuff.

Bored with the empty house, he headed over to the Curtis' for the night to see what they were up to. At his arrival he was promptly informed of a party at Jimmy Brown's place. Not someone he was personally tight with but Dal and Steve knew him well enough, and a lot of the Shepard boys would be there as well. He was buds with a couple of the Shepard guys, they frequented Buck's, same as him.

By the time they arrived he was half-crocked already, and had beers stuffed in each of his pockets. He held high hopes for the night, hadn't been to a good party in a couple weeks, and the place was crawling by the time they rolled up.

His high hopes didn't last very long.

He was able to enjoy himself for half an hour before he saw her. She had not a beer but a two-six of vodka in her hand. And Curly Shepard was wrapped around her from behind. That sobered him up pretty quick. She was giggling something fierce, although she seemed to be paying more attention to the girl chatting on in front of her than the boy behind. She clearly hadn't noticed her brother across the room.

Still, he saw fucking flames behind his eyelids. The flames of the pit in Hell Curly Shepard would burn in.

He was up and on his way over to them when she pulled herself out of Curly's grasp-thankfully-and sauntered (yes, she fucking sauntered) across the room, away from him. She left Curly pouting and Two-Bit wondering behind her.

She was moving into the living room now, and despite her sure steps he could tell she was plastered from the way she moved. He was tempted to just run up to her and get her out, but she seemed very determined in what she was doing, and you know what they say about curiosity.

Yeah, so maybe he doesn't exactly know what they say about curiosity, but he knows it's something bad. And he knows they're right when he sees her make her way straight over to Dallas fucking Winston, and stop just short of sitting on his lap.

She's standing so damn close to him, and Two-Bit can't make out what she's saying, but he's seen the look she's giving Dal before. Not from her, oh God no. Hopefully he'd never see it from her again. But he's seen it from Kathy, and he's seen Sylvia give it, and numerous other much more experienced girls.

She was straight-up coming on to Dallas Winston.

Dear lord, she was going to give him a stroke.

Dally, for his part, gave her a bemused but clearly uninterested look that did little to settle Two-Bit's stomach.

He regained what composure he had and decided he was sick of this show and marched over to her.

"Fancy meetin' you here, Annie," he said loudly, and the edge to his voice was clear. He wasn't impressed.

She paled, and looked at him with guilty, caught-in-the-act, bright eyes. But he wasn't buying her pleading or innocent looks. Not tonight.

"C'mon, we're going home," he took her by the arm, leaving very little room for argument. Not that she would try to argue at this point.

He steamed all the way to the car, and by the time they were inside and on their way he was so angry he couldn't hold it any longer.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" He burst. She'd been sitting in tense silence waiting for him to say something, and jumped at his words.

"Two-Bit I'm sorry, Angela mentioned Jimmy was having a party, and I thought I'd never been to one before and I should try it, and besides most girls my age go to parties all the time, and here's me and I've never even drank before, and I was-" she rambled out all her words in one breath, some of them slurred, and he cut her off.

"I don't mean that!" He snapped at her, "I mean what the hell are you doing with Dally? And Curly? What are you thinking, Annie?"

She was quiet, and he could see her wiping at tears on her cheeks. Her head was turned down in shame.

He softened his tone, just a little, and cursed himself for being so susceptible to her crying. "Do you know what they're like? Guys like that?"

She shook her head a little, still not looking at him.

"They're not good, Annie. They're rough. And they're trouble. They'll hurt you."

"But Dal's your friend," she said so quietly he almost didn't hear.

"He's my buddy, which means I know him and I know you deserve better. He's too old for you anyhow!" She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off again. "And that don't mean Curly's no better either!" She shut her mouth.

He was quiet for a while, trying to calm down from being so angry. Finally, he took a breath a spoke again, softer this time. "Annie, you're my kid sister, ya know? I got to look out for ya. I know you're gonna go to parties and drink, and as long as you're bein safe then I'm alright with that. But dressin' like that… letting guys like Curly Shepard feel you up. Those are just plain bad decisions. You know that. You got to know that."

"Two-Bit-" she said urgently. He wasn't quite done though.

"I just don't wanna see you hurt, alright, girly?"

"Two-Bit, pull over." He looked at her with surprise.

"What? We're almost home."

"Pull over!" She demanded. He wondered if she was mad. He did as she asked though.

As soon as the car had stopped she pushed open the door, leaned out, and threw up everything inside her.

"Shit," he hissed to himself. At least she didn't get any in his car, he could be thankful for that. He leaned over to pull back her hair for her. "There you go, let it out," he comforted.

When he finally got her home he helped clean her up and put her to bed, water and pills by her bedside table. He thought she was passed out as he was leaving, but she called out to him. He had a sudden flash of deja-vu from a very long time ago.

"Annie, you got to go to sleep now."

"I know. Two-Bit, I'm sorry. I won't-" she cut herself off, unsure how to word it, "I'll make better decisions from now on."

"Thanks, girly."

* * *

Her promise didn't exactly last as long as he would have liked it to. After a brief but concerning stint with Curly Shepard he was worried she'd forgot their conversation entirely. More than anything he'd stressed himself blind with the knowledge that if she kept being so young and stupid soon she'd be old and miserable.

But his sister is a smart girl, even if he'd doubted it sometimes.

He doubted it when she was eleven and she hosted a sleepover with her friends, and he'd heard her fess up to her crush on Dallas. When she was fourteen and batting her eyelashes at him.

He doubted it when he was sitting in their den waiting for Shepard to bring her home even though she was already and hour after curfew.

But she was so, so smart. And entirely too naive. And, God, she was still so, so young. Only twenty, and beautiful, and hopeful.

It had taken her twenty years, but she was smart and so she figured out on her own that she didn't want a guy like Dallas Winston.

So he sat down at the Curtis dinner table and watched Ponyboy pull out her seat for her, and kiss her on the cheek before they started eating. He laughed and joked and teased the hell out of them, but he saw the way she looked at him. And, more importantly, he saw the way Ponyboy returned that look.

He knew his sister was a smart, smart girl.

And for the first time in ten years, he stopped worrying about who she'd end up with.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This is the thing that I worked on when I have writers block for my other stories, and now it's done! Guess I'll just have to start another one. I hope you guys liked it and please review! xoxo**


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